Please Come Home for Christmas
by Mistletoe Contest
Summary: What should be the most wonderful time of the year is now a nightmare. Reminders of her are everywhere, breaking his heart as his hope vanishes. The one thing Edward wants for Christmas seems impossible, but maybe a miracle can happen just in time.


**Title: **Please Come Home for Christmas

**Summary: **What should be the most wonderful time of the year is now a nightmare. Reminders of her are everywhere, breaking his heart as his hope vanishes. The one thing Edward wants for Christmas seems impossible, but maybe a miracle can happen just in time.

**Pairing: **Edward/Bella

**Rating: **M

**Word count: **8451

**oOo**

The kitchen is dark as I trudge in to make a cup of coffee. I don't bother turning on a light. If I only focus on what I'm doing, I can avoid seeing most of the reminders. The decorations are everywhere. Usually they make me smile because Christmas is her favorite holiday and she loves them so much. But now, they only add fire to the hell I'm currently living in.

As I'm halfway through my caffeine fix, I hear one of the few sounds that can still make me smile. I set my cup down and make my way down the hallway, slowly peeking my head into the open doorway. She spots me right away and stands in her crib, lifting her arms for me.

"Daddy!"

I smile and cross the room, lifting her into my arms. "Good morning, Katie Lou." She nuzzles her face against my neck as I kiss her head. "Did you sleep well? Dream lots of good dreams?"

She nods and rambles on, probably continuing the conversation she started with herself as soon as she woke. She's been doing this since she discovered she had a voice, always waking in a good mood with so much to say to anyone who will listen. She's so much like her, it can be scary at times. I take a seat in the rocking chair and enjoy her sweet little voice. Her words get clearer and clearer every day, and today I catch a few that make my heart squeeze in my chest.

"Daddy . . . Mommy? Mommy sleepin'. Go see Mommy?" She stares up at me with those hopeful, _identical _brown eyes, and as much as I want to break down, I force another smile and nod.

"Sure, little love. We can go see Mommy. Let's get dressed first, okay?"

My voice breaks a little, but she doesn't notice. She simply squeals and claps as I stand and walk over to her closet. Here, I'm completely out of my element. I've never shied away from doing anything I can to help with Katie, but matching clothes isn't my forte. Her outfits are usually laid out a week at a time, but we ran out of those yesterday. Yet another reminder threatening to break me.

Katie, however, takes things into her own hands, reaching for something red. "Ho ho," she says, pulling out a dress with a Santa design on the front. "Ho Ho comin' town, Daddy."

Closing my eyes tightly, I put the dress back and blindly grab something else. I can't do it.

We bought that dress two weeks ago at one of her favorite stores, and I remember exactly how her face lit up as she gushed about how adorable it was. My parents had Katie so we could have a day out together, trying to take advantage of our alone time before everything changed.

But then everything _did_ change — in a way we never could have anticipated.

Opening my eyes, I blink quickly so my little love doesn't see the tears that are probably close to falling. I carry her over to the changing table and get to work. She's cooperative as I get her into a clean diaper and the outfit I picked. Luckily, this one isn't Christmas but it does have a dog on the front which Katie loves. She entertains me by barking as I attempt to slide a head band into her hair and find appropriate socks and shoes. Though I'm still not used to doing this on my own, she looks cute enough by the time I'm finished so I consider it a success.

After a quick shower while Katie plays with some of her toys, I throw on whatever warm clothes I can find and then text Dad. He responds right away, either because he isn't busy or because he's worried about me, and I tell him what Kate has requested. He says he'll meet me there before I even have to ask. I don't want him or Mom to worry about _me_, but I'm really thankful I have them. I can't imagine surviving this without their support.

"Come on, Katie Lou." I scoop her up, tickling her belly. "Let's find some warm jackets. It's really cold outside today." I tickle her again, and she giggles as she squirms down and takes off.

I follow and catch up to her at our coat rack. She gets her hat on with minimal help from me, but the jacket is another story. As I help her bundle up, she excitedly starts talking about our plans.

"Go see Mommy! Mommy sleepin', not wake up. Daddy, see baby? Baby Car sleep too? Beep beep beep. Go bye bye, Daddy?"

I nod and agree with everything she says. It's amazing how her toddler mind can make everything sound so simple when it's anything but. I'm glad she's handling it better than I am.

A few months ago, we worried Katie was too young to handle the changes coming. We asked ourselves if she'd really understand, if she'd adapt. But we had no idea _this_ would happen, no idea that her age would actually be a positive — if there is anything positive about this. She doesn't carry the grief around or the what ifs, and she's only had a few really sad moments so far. It's possible she won't remember this at all, while I know I'll never forget.

Once we're bundled up, we head outside to the car where I realize I have to take Katie's coat off to buckle her into her car seat. Then I realize I forgot to feed Katie breakfast, yet another sign that I'm not used to doing this on my own.

She keeps me together and without her I'm floundering.

The drive doesn't take long but it seems to drag. Katie eats dry cereal on the way because that's the best I can pull together. At least she seems to enjoy it. After parking, I wrestle her back into her coat, grab the diaper bag, and we head in together.

This route is all too familiar now, and I keep my eyes focused down to avoid seeing any of their decorations. Katie knows exactly what button to push in the elevator before I even say anything, causing more tears to come to my eyes. I have them just about blinked away until the doors open and my dad is waiting just on the other side.

He doesn't say anything as I approach him, opting to hug me instead. I don't fight it now like I did last week. I know I need his comfort as much as he needs to give it.

"Good morning, Edward," he says when I step back, my tear ducts now under control. "And good morning to you, baby girl. Did you and Daddy have a good night?"

"Hey, Pop!" she squeals as she leans into his arms from mine. "Go see Mommy!"

"Yeah? I bet she missed you too." He looks back at me. "One track mind?"

I shrug. "It hasn't been so bad. She wanted her before bedtime, but she's been happy so far today. Just wanted to come see her."

He nods. "That shouldn't be a problem. I already told them you were coming so no one should disturb us."

I nod as he uses his badge to open the doors for us. We've been breaking all the rules lately, but I couldn't give a flying fuck what the _visiting hours_ are or the age restriction. No one is going to tell me when I can see my wife, and they sure as shit aren't going to tell me that a two-year-old can't see her mother. We'll stay out of the way when necessary, but especially now that she's stable, staying out entirely isn't going to happen.

Dad leads us back to the now familiar little cubicle, and my heart races as I see her. Dad stands back with Katie, giving me the moment that I always need.

I slowly walk to the side of the bed, gently resting my hand in hers. "Hi, baby," I say softly, rubbing her fingers with my thumb. "I missed you last night. I made spaghetti and now I understand why you always take Katie's clothes off. I . . . uh . . . didn't, so feel free to yell at me for the stains that'll probably never come out."

Really, I'd give _anything_ just to hear her yell at me right now instead of lying unmoving in this bed.

As I tell her about our night at home, I let my eyes drift over her body, inspecting everything. One of her IVs has been changed to the opposite arm and her other IV is now missing — something I need to ask Dad about — but other than that, she looks the same as when I left yesterday evening. I can't decide if that's a good or bad thing.

Katie soon lets us know that it's her turn with her mommy, so Dad sets her on the bed. We remind her to be careful, but it's needless. She shows more care than any two-year-old should as she kisses Bella's cheek and then curls up against her.

The scene makes my heart squeeze once again. Katelyn Marie is every bit her mother's twin. From their dark brown hair with just a hint of curl at the bottom to their deep brown eyes and joyful personalities. They both love life so to see only one of them able to live fully is crushing me.

While Katie gives her own account of the time apart, I begin my inspection of the monitors. The ventilator settings have been turned down slightly, and I immediately see why. A tiny bit of hope begins to build as I turn to look at Dad.

"Did you see this?" I ask.

He smiles and nods. "I did. Banner went down a step on her sedation early this morning during rounds, and she's been breathing over it ever since."

"Do you . . . do you think . . . ?"

He stops me by placing his hand on my arm and nodding. "Yes, son. I definitely think she _will_ wake up and probably soon, at that. Maybe even by tonight if she does well with the sedation weans."

My knees feel weak as I process what he's saying. For the past few days, everything has been the same. No worse but no better either. I didn't mean to lose hope, but I've always been the more pessimistic one — or realistic as I'm always teasingly trying to convince Bella — so it's been hard for me to stay positive without a reason to be. But this . . . this is a good reason.

"Keep looking," Dad encourages, nodding toward the other side of the tiny room where the other monitors are.

I walk that way, squeezing one of Bella's feet as I pass, and then study the screen. They have it set to record her vitals every fifteen minutes so I use the touch screen to scroll through the results. And what I find makes the hope build even more. They're all in normal range which has been true for several days, but they're starting to look more like Bella's normal.

Pulling the single chair over, I sit down to look at the next monitor. Now that I'm feeling hopeful about Bella's condition, I worry the rug is about to be pulled out from under me. But as I study the printed out strip and turn up the sound, I breathe a sigh of relief. One hundred and fifty four beats per minute with plenty of accelerations and no signs of contractions. Instead of worst case scenario, this is as good as we could hope for.

Katie recognizes the whooshing right away and sits up to look over at me. "Baby Car, Daddy?"

With a smile, I nod. "Yes, ma'am. That's Baby Carlie's heart beat. It's still nice and strong. She's really happy in Mommy's tummy."

"Yay!" She claps and leans over to kiss the bump, pulling back with a giggle.

"Did she kick you? Are my girls being silly?" I haven't allowed myself to think like this since before that fateful phone call a week ago, to think that I'll keep my perfect-for-me life with my girls, but maybe it's okay now. Maybe everything will actually be okay.

Katie gets a little too rambunctious after feeling her sister's kick, so Dad volunteers to take her down to the cafeteria to get a snack. I'm sure she's probably still hungry after the lacking breakfast I gave her, and it also gives me uninterrupted time with my wife, so I have no objections. Dad closes the curtain on his way out, and I scoot my chair over so I can lay my head next to hers.

"Did you hear Carlie Anne's heartbeat, love?" I ask as I kiss her temple. "It sounds great, so I bet she wants to keep cooking for these last ten weeks. As much of a gift that would be, I can definitely live with her staying in there past Christmas."

The thought of Christmas sobers me quickly and the tears return.

"I can't live without you for Christmas, though, Bella. Your decorations are everywhere, but I can't even look at them. The house is so quiet, and today Katie wanted to wear that new Santa dress you bought her, but I just couldn't let her. It's not Christmas without you, okay? I can't watch shitty Hallmark movies or bake cookies or wrap gifts without my best friend. So you have to wake up and come home."

Roughly, I wipe my wet face on my sleeve and then place a kiss on her cheek.

"Come back to me," I whisper in her ear. "Please, baby. Bella . . . Bella, please."

I don't care that I'm begging. I _need_ her so badly it hurts. After ten years together, our lives are woven so tightly together that I don't know how to do this alone. I just need her.

I lay my head beside hers and hold her hand until Dad and Katie return. Katie stays until her lunch and nap time and then Mom comes to get her. Once they're gone, Dad gets Bella's chart and explains more in detail what's been going on over the past twelve or so hours.

I've never been more thankful that Dad used to be a trauma surgeon and that he's chief of emergency now. He's kept me updated since this hell started. It doesn't hurt that I'm a physician too, but family medicine isn't anything like trauma so I've needed his expertise.

Last week Bella was on her way home from the grocery store when some asshole decided to text and drive while speeding, resulting in him rear ending her. The seat belt probably saved her and the baby's lives, but the airbag didn't deploy as it was supposed to. Her head hit the wheel so hard it caused her brain to bruise and swell.

I'll never forget the phone call that evening for as long as I live.

I'd just gotten home from work when Dad called, and I knew right away from the sound of his voice that something wasn't right.

Apparently Bella had been conscious when she was brought into the ED. Conscious and only worried about the baby. Her brain quickly showed signs of swelling and increased intracranial pressure though, and they had to do what they could quickly. Their options were limited because of the pregnancy, and as soon as I arrived, they were already starting to ask impossible questions.

_Bella or the baby._

I feel sick even remembering it now, but Dad kept me calm and mostly rational. And thankfully, it never got that far. They stabilized Bella within a few hours by inducing a coma and began reducing the swelling and pressure with the few safe drugs they could use. Carlie never showed any signs of distress, and as Dad had reminded me, at twenty nine weeks, she had a ninety percent chance of survival if delivered anyway. But she's making it clear that she's still happy inside Bella for a while longer, from the first ultrasound they did in the ED to her perfect heart rate and activity now.

And finally . . . _finally_ Bella seems to be making it clear that she could possibly be fine, too.

"They did a follow up CT this morning," Dad explains, "and as you can see, everything is looking normal. No bleeds and the swelling is down." I look at the comparisons he's printed off and can see that he's right which relieves me even more. "Her vitals have been great, and they removed one of her IVs earlier. I'm not completely sure what Banner has planned, but I believe he'll keep weaning sedation and vent settings through the day as long as she continues to respond well. Was there anything else you wanted to know? If it's not in her chart, I'll do my best to find out."

I shake my head. "No, I don't think so. I'm just . . . cautiously relieved, I guess? So you really think she'll be okay? No brain damage or anything?"

"No one can be sure, of course, until she wakes up, but there are no signs that make me believe she'll have long term side effects. And I'm definitely not an expert in obstetrics, but the baby seems to be fine, too." He reaches over, placing his hand on mine. "I can't give certainties as a doctor, but as a father and grandfather I can tell you that I know they'll be fine. Call it a gut feeling or whatever, but Bella will be back."

All I can do is nod. This is what I've been waiting to hear for the last week, though I'm not sure I would've been ready to hear it before now, now that there are signs to back it up.

Maybe I can hold on to my little bit of hope.

I don't leave Bella's side for the rest of the day. Nurses and doctors come and go, adjusting medications and machines, and I watch carefully for the effects. Bella responds perfectly each time, her vitals staying the same as she breathes more and more over the ventilator.

Mom brings Katie back later in the afternoon, and they both stay a few hours. I even manage to discuss tentative plans for Christmas without my heart hurting or my eyes watering. It's as if I needed to heal along with Bella, and we're both making progress.

Bella is progressing so well that I'm afraid I'll miss something, so Mom offers to take Katie for the night. Dad says he'll stay as long as I am, so we camp out together.

I pass the time talking to Bella about everything I can think of along with asking her to squeeze my hand if she can hear me. I feel like a dumbass for the clichéd phrase but really there's nothing I want more — besides her being completely awake — than to feel her fingers move against mine.

The last of the medications are weaned just around midnight, but nothing happens. No hand squeezing, no eye opening. Nothing. Realistically, she's probably just sleeping because after all, she was in an accident and then in a coma for a week. But apparently I _am_ leaning more toward pessimism because my hope starts to fade.

"Please, Bella," I whisper one last time, squeezing her hand as tightly as I dare. "Come back to me, baby. Katie and I need you."

Nothing.

Broken-hearted, I continue my vigil. No changes, no more hope.

I must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing I know, it's bright in the room and I can hear Dad talking to someone. My back and neck are killing me from being hunched over the bed, so with a groan, I sit up and try to roll out all the kinks. After blinking a few times, I realize things aren't quite the same.

Dad is telling someone that everything's okay, and there is definitely movement against my fingers. As I focus more, I see that scared brown eyes are meeting mine.

"Bella," I gasp, squeezing her hand in mine.

I don't have any time to think about how excited I am. I'm only worried about her. It's clear she's panicking based on her eyes and the beeping of the alarm behind me. Not that I can blame her. I'd be panicking too if I woke up and had a tube shoved down my throat.

"Bella, love . . . it's okay. Can you calm down for me?" I try to keep my voice as calm as I can, but it doesn't seem to be working very well. "Everything's okay, baby. You're fine. _Carlie's_ fine. I promise."

That seems to get her attention and her eyes look less frantic. She's still far from calm though, so I glance toward Dad but he's already out of the room, hopefully getting help.

Bella's hand squeezes mine stronger than before, making me quickly return my attention.

"Oh, Bella," I whisper, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "I'm so happy to see you. Everything's okay. You're in the hospital on a ventilator. We'll see about getting it out, but don't fight it for now, okay? You'll be okay. I'm right here."

I continue talking to her, squeezing her hand in return, and it seems to calm her further. As much as I want to break down and cry in relief, she needs me to be strong so that's what I do.

Everything moves quickly after that.

Dad returns with a doctor and several nurses and they work to get Bella extubated. I hold her hand the whole time and everything goes smoothly, though painful for her thanks to her bruised ribs because she has to cough several times. They put her on oxygen to help her adjust, just in case, but she doesn't really need it after a few minutes. Her sats are perfect.

She's perfect.

After making sure she's stable, everyone eventually leaves the room. Even Dad. I'll never be able to thank him and Mom enough for their support, but I need this time alone with my gorgeous wife.

She hasn't had a real shower in over a week, her hair isn't brushed, and the hospital gown is faded, but I've never seen a more beautiful woman before in my life.

And when she smiles at me, my heart fuses back together.

"Hi," she whispers, voice rough from the tube. "Love you."

A sob forces its way out of my throat but I manage to smile back. "Hi, baby. I love you, too. God, you have no idea how much I love you. I'm so happy to see you."

"Katie? Car-Carlie?"

"Katie's with Mom right now and totally fine," I quickly assure her. "And Carlie is perfect." I reach over and turn up the sound on the fetal monitor so she can hear the heartbeat. "She's so strong, just like her mommy."

Bella smiles again and closes her eyes, tears leaking out of the corners. I move our joined hands to her stomach and together, we feel a few kicks.

A few minutes pass in silence as we feel our daughter, but I can tell Bella has many more questions. She's always been inquisitive and unafraid to ask tough questions. Now is no different.

"What ha-happened? How . . . long?" She coughs, wincing in pain, so I pour her a cup of water and grab a straw.

As I help her drink a few sips, I explain everything that happened. I don't leave anything out because I know better than to even attempt. We cry together as I relive it all and she hears it for the first time. Through it all, we're both so grateful. Things could have ended completely differently.

Hell, up until a couple hours ago I was sure the worst case scenario would actually be coming true.

But Bella continues to be the half full glass to my half empty one. Even just out of a coma, she brightens up the room and my mood.

"What day?" she asks softly, her voice slowly coming back.

"Today's Wednesday," I explain, but she shakes her head.

"No. Did I . . . miss Christmas?" Her face looks completely heartbroken at the possibility, and I'm so glad I can reassure her.

"Oh no, love. Today's only the eighteenth. We have another week until Christmas. You didn't miss it at all."

Her face doesn't brighten as much as I hoped it would. "Go home be-before?"

I grimace, not knowing the answer. "I'm not sure. We can ask Dad when he comes back and your doctors. I'm not sure how long they'll want to keep you. But I promise . . . I _promise_ we'll have Christmas no matter what. As close to how you want it as we can." I'll do literally anything for her. If that means dragging a six foot tree into this little room, so be it. I'd like to see anyone try to stop me.

She nods and squeezes my hand, then looks around the room. I can see the wheels turning in her head, her nose wrinkling in distaste as she checks out the tiny, drab space, and I chuckle to myself. So far, she's still Bella. One hundred percent.

"Needs some Christmas spirit," she says quietly though adamantly. "Boring."

I laugh louder this time. "Anything you want, Bella. We'll ask Mom as soon as she gets here. She can bring you some food, too. Are you hungry?"

She thinks for a few seconds and nods again. "Gingerbread? Eggnog?"

I can't resist leaning over to kiss her lips. They're a bit dry and cracked, but feeling them mold against mine and kiss me back is the best feeling. This is one of our best kisses ever.

"Anything you want," I tell her again with yet another kiss. "Anything."

With her needs satisfied for the time being, she drifts off. The worry that she won't wake up is in the back of my mind, but her sleep is restless this time just like before all of this which is the only thing keeping me from panicking.

Dad eventually returns with the doctor and they both seem very pleased with Bella's progress. The new plan is to continue to monitor her when she eats and starts moving around again and then hopefully move her out of the ICU. I tell them about her request to be home for Christmas, and Dr. Banner seems to catch my pessimism. He thinks another week or so in the hospital, but Dad winks at me so I know he has other ideas. As long as Bella is happy and out of danger, I'm fine with whatever.

When Bella begins to stir away from her nap, some of my renewed worry melts away.

"Hey," I say as she opens her eyes. "Good nap?"

She blinks a few times before focusing on my face. "Hey." She smiles and squeezes my hand which is quickly becoming one of my favorite things. "Sorry I fell asleep."

"No, no, it's okay. It's completely normal for you to be tired. Is your head hurting? We can get you something for it."

She bites her lip, reluctant to admit that her head _is_ hurting, but I can see it all over her face.

"But the baby . . . " She rubs her stomach with her free hand, and I put mine over it.

"We can get you some Tylenol," I suggest. "It won't be very strong, but it might help a little. And it's safe for the baby. Would that be okay?"

She agrees, so we call the nurse in. Getting the pills isn't a problem, and after Bella takes them, the nurse suggests getting her cleaned up along with a fresh gown and linens. Of course, Bella doesn't want to do things the easy way.

"I want a shower," Bella insists in her raspy voice. "A real shower. Please, Edward? I feel so gross. Don't I need to move around? Please?"

She's killing me. I don't know if my need for her to be happy can override my need for her to be safe. But twenty four hours ago I had no idea if I'd ever hear her voice again, let alone have her beg me for something as simple as a shower.

So I give in. No surprise there.

The nurse tries convincing Bella to wait for physical therapy to come, but once she decides something, there's no changing her mind. Dad chuckles from the doorway as the nurse, an aide, and I help Bella get out of bed and onto her feet. She has a triumphant grin on her face even though just standing up has exhausted her and caused more pain.

It doesn't stop her, though. Through our group effort and me supporting most of her weight, she showers and manages to carefully wash her hair, too. Her bed is changed in the process, and when she's dressed and tucked in once more, she does seem to be feeling better.

"Thank you, baby." She sighs, puckering her lips for a kiss which I give her right away. "I feel better. Can I see Katie? Has she been here?"

"Almost every day," I tell her, taking my seat again. "She hasn't been afraid of the hospital at all, but I know she'll be thrilled you're awake now."

"I'll call Esme and let her know," Dad says as he comes over to kiss Bella's forehead. "How about resting until they get here, hmm? We're completely overjoyed you're awake, sweetheart, but let's take it slow for a while, okay?"

"Kay," she agrees easily with a grin. "Does eating count as slow?"

We both laugh at her, and God it feels so good. Like my heart is fully together again and can beat without pain.

Soon after Dad leaves the room, the nurse brings a tray of food for Bella to attempt. It's mainly clear liquids because after all, this is the first food she's had in over a week, but Bella is less than thrilled by her options. She tries a few different things on the tray, mostly because of my prompting, but in return she makes horrible faces. I try reminding her that as long as it stays down, she can have something different next, but that doesn't stop the grimaces.

What does help her mood is when a certain little girl in a red Santa dress comes running into the room.

Katie's eyes widen and her mouth opens as she sees her mommy sitting up in bed. "Mommy wake up!"

Bella quickly pushes the tray back and opens her arms. "My baby girl! Come see Mommy, Katie Lou!"

I jump up and help Katie onto the bed so she doesn't jar Bella too much, but my precautions don't really matter. Bella is squeezing our daughter as tightly as she can and placing kisses all over her as soon as she's in her reach.

"Oh, baby. Mommy missed you so much. So much. Were you a good girl for Daddy and Nana?"

As Katie provides an entertaining account of her week, I just sit back and watch them. My two — well, three — girls all together. Everything is finally okay.

I'm crying again before I know it, happy tears this time. Part of me feels like a pussy for crying this much but the other part reminds me what we've been through. There's no shame in happy tears now.

Mom is crying happy tears too when she enters the room a few minutes later. She hands me a bag, and I laugh when I open it. There are clothes for me for the night as well as a container.

"Gingerbread," she explains to Bella with a grin. "Carlisle might have mentioned bringing you some in a few days, but I know our girl. You needed that today, didn't you?"

"Esme, I love you so much," Bella says, reaching for Mom's hand which she quickly takes and then kisses Bella's cheek.

"I love you too, sweetheart. We're absolutely elated to see you awake again. Now, you just focus on recovering and getting out of here. I'll take care of anything else."

Bella starts crying as she agrees. "Thank you. _Thank you._" I know she's not just thanking her for the gingerbread or for the offer. This is a thank you for everything, and Mom knows it.

Mom tsks. "I'll have none of that. You just thank me by telling me what I can do."

Bella launches right into her idea for decorating her ICU room. I just sit back and listen. It's so good to hear her voice, even though I can tell she's wearing it out again. I don't have the heart to ask her to rest her throat.

When Dad returns, we spend time together along with him updating Bella on her condition. Nothing will be changing tonight, but starting tomorrow, they'll be doing what they can to reassess and get her out of ICU. Bella and I are both content with that plan, though I'm sure Bella's idea of a _good_ plan would involve me taking her home tonight. Not going to happen.

I know Bella wants to spend as much time with Katie as possible, but when she starts to doze off while they're watching a Christmas movie on TV, I convince her to let Mom and Dad take Katie so she can rest.

Once they're gone and the curtain is closed, Bella scoots over and pats the space beside her.

"Please?"

"I don't want to hurt you, baby."

"You won't," she promises. "What's one more rule?"

I snort because she has me there. We've been breaking all the rules this past week so really, what is one more?

"Well, I guess I should be thorough with my rule breaking," I say as I gently lie beside her, resting my arm over the top of her baby bump. "Did you know you married a bad boy?"

She tries to giggle, but soon stops because the movement hurts her ribs. "I love you."

"Love you, too," I whisper, kissing her.

My own eyes begin closing, so I let myself drift off with her. After a week of sleepless nights and days full of sadness and worry, I can finally sleep. My Bella came back to me, and my hope did too. We would make it.

**oOo**

The next few days fly by. I'm thankful my practice has let me take a leave of absence so I can focus on what's really important without worrying about making it back to work. I can't see myself being in any hurry either, especially with Carlie's due date being so soon. I know what's important to me, and I've learned how quickly everything can change. I don't plan to waste a minute with the loves of my life.

Bella surprises everyone with her resilience, or at least everyone but me. I know her, so I know that when she puts her mind to something, she doesn't fail. Dr. Banner comments several times that he's never seen anyone recover from a brain injury as well as she has, and she jokes with him that it's the Christmas spirit.

She didn't have time to decorate her ICU room because the next evening, she was in a regular room. This one, however, looks like a Christmas explosion thanks to Esme bringing supplies.

The decorations still remind me of her, but instead of my heart squeezing painfully, it's all in happiness now because she's awake to enjoy them. They make her light up with joy, and I have to agree with her that the hospital room seems like home now that it's full of _spirit_.

The nurses all call her amazing, but I call her my Christmas miracle. Statistically, she should still be in a coma and probably have much worse injuries, and at best Carlie should be in the NICU instead of still happily floating around in her mommy's tummy.

But I can't look at things pessimistically or even realistically anymore. _Our_ reality is too miraculous for that.

"So whatcha think, doc?" Bella asks as Dr. Banner comes into her room during his rounds. It's December twenty third, and we're both waiting on potential discharge news.

I'm actually hopeful about what he's going to say. Bella's strength hasn't fully returned, but her brain continues to heal, she's eating well, all the tubes and lines have been removed, and her mental status is perfect every time it's checked. Physical therapy evaluated her earlier today, and she impressed them by showing that she could walk to the bathroom and back without assistance. Not that I'll be letting her do that for a long, long while, but at least she _can._

Dr. Banner looks around the room, laughing as he shakes his head. Christmas music is playing and we have a small tree on one of the rolling trays as well as bows and garland everywhere. Bella herself is dressed in a red sweater dress and green fuzzy socks as she sits stretched across the uncomfortable couch, her feet in my lap.

She hasn't exactly been a conforming patient. The hospital gowns were gone the moment we left ICU and she hasn't been in bed other than to sleep. I'm sure I bug her with how many times I ask if she's okay, but I can't turn it off. The vision in my head of her in a coma, unmoving for a week won't just disappear right away, no matter how well she's assures me she's feeling. I might be trying out the whole optimism thing, but one of us has to remain just a bit cautious.

"Honestly, Mrs. Cullen," Dr. Banner says, shaking his head again. "I'm not sure what to think. You're turning out to be a bit of an anomaly."

She grins, moving her feet from my lap as she turns to fully face him. "Do anomalies get to go home for Christmas?"

He sighs, flipping through her chart. "You know, I think they just might."

Bella's grin widens as she reaches over to grab my arm. Her excitement is palpable. "Really? Can I be discharged today? Then I'll have time for some baking tonight and —"

"Now, wait wait wait," he cautions, holding his hand up. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. You're looking about as good as we could ever hope, but I'd like to keep you through the night just to be sure. Tomorrow morning I'll discharge you, but _only_ if you promise to rest for a few weeks. No baking, no stress, let your family take care of everything. You just sit back and enjoy the holidays. Do we have a deal?"

Bella actually looks conflicted which makes me want to laugh. I know what she'll ultimately say, but the whole concept of rest at Christmas is one she doesn't understand. Her obstetrician and the perinatologist that had been seeing her since admission even said the same thing. They don't expect anything to go wrong with the rest of the pregnancy as long Bella takes it easy.

"Okay," she sighs. "Tomorrow then."

And the next day, things go exactly as planned. Dr. Banner discharges her right after breakfast, and I hypervigilantly drive us home. When we pull into the driveway, I let out the biggest sigh of relief. We're safe and Bella is back home. It's the only Christmas gift I need.

Esme has been watching Katie at our house today, so they both greet us when I carry Bella into the house. I place her on the couch and let Esme fret over her for a few minutes before she leaves. She and Dad will be back tomorrow for and _with_ Christmas dinner, so it isn't hard for her to leave. I'm incredibly thankful because I need this time . . . we need this time as a family. No doctors or nurses or anyone threatening to interrupt us. Just time to reconnect.

The house is bright again now that Bella is home. She and Katie sing along to Christmas songs while I fix us a quick lunch and then we cuddle up together on the couch to spend the afternoon watching our favorite Christmas movies.

When Katie is ready to make cookies for _Ho Ho_, the sad look that crosses Bella's face nearly breaks my mended heart. But luckily for both of us, I've already found a solution.

"I can walk, you know," she teases as I carry her into the kitchen.

"Maybe I just like having you in my arms," I tease back. "And maybe I just like being able to touch you." I let one of my hands wander to squeeze her ass, and she slaps my shoulder as she laughs.

It feels so good to be us again.

"Okay, beautiful ladies," I say after placing Bella on a bar stool and helping Katie onto the one beside her. "I know this isn't like your usual baking, but it'll have to do." I pull out the boxes I bought yesterday at the store, dramatically presenting them to my audience. The little circles of cookie dough you place on the pan and bake definitely aren't the same as homemade, but this way, my girls don't miss a tradition.

"Oh, Edward," Bella sighs as her eyes become glassy. "Those are perfect. Thank you."

"My pleasure, love." I can't resist kissing her before I grab the pans for them.

Once more Christmas music is playing, they set to work. It might not be what Bella was planning, but they both seem to have a great time arranging the circles on the pans. Katie adds a few sprinkles too, making them even more special.

As the cookies bake, I clean, but my girls stay to entertain me. Katie tells us all about Ho Ho and his reindeer which leads into me asking her what she wants Ho Ho to bring her for Christmas. She names a few things I don't really understand along with a few things I know I've seen hiding in our closet so I know she'll be thrilled.

"What about you, Daddy?" Bella asks as they sample the fresh cookies. "What do you want Ho Ho to bring you for Christmas?"

I smile and just look at my girls, both with happy smiles and swinging legs. This. This is the only thing I want and have wanted for Christmas. For a while, I thought it was maybe too much to ask for, and maybe it was. But I got my Christmas miracle anyway, and nothing else can compare.

"Just you, baby. I just wanted you home."

**oOo**

The rest of the evening is spent with more Christmas movies and attempting to limit Katie's sugar consumption after dinner. I'm a pushover on a bad day, but now I'm finding it even more difficult to say no to either of my girls.

Which is how I wind up sitting beside Bella as we wrap Katie's presents on the floor. It took a few extra cuddles and books to get Katie to fall asleep, but she's been out for a while now which gives us a chance to get this done. I assumed we'd just be arranging the unwrapped gifts under the tree, but Bella was not a fan of that idea to say the least. So she's sitting on a pillow with her back against the couch — the only way I would agree to this — but her happiness is clear.

"Aren't you glad I start Christmas prep so early?" she asks, bumping her shoulder against mine. "Next year I expect no questions when I start before Thanksgiving, mister. I saved our butts this year."

I hate that we even needed our butts saved in the first place, and as much as I wish the last two weeks hadn't happened, she does have a point. I'm not at the point of being able to joke about it like she is, but I am very glad no one had to rush to put up our tree or wrap the other gifts. Only the Santa gifts are left.

"Yeah, yeah. Is one holiday at a time too much to ask for? I ask, gently bumping her back.

"When the other holiday isn't Christmas, yes."

I laugh and continue to egg her on for a few minutes. Her spirit is still exactly the same, nothing has changed at all, thank God. And it isn't Christmas spirit, though her love of the holiday is strong. This is pure Bella. She's joy and happiness, and it's no wonder I was floundering without her.

We know we don't complete each other, but we do _enhance_ each other in the best ways. From the moment we met until now, it remains clear. My life is fuller with her and our girls, and I'm so grateful I don't have to go on without them.

When the gifts are wrapped, I arrange them under the tree until Bella is satisfied with their placement. We then change into our pajamas that match the ones she dressed Katie in after her bath. Last year I might have complained about the snowman design, but not this year. I'm enjoying every moment as much as I can.

I start a fire as Bella takes care of the plate of cookies Katie left out for Ho Ho along with the eggnog she convinced our daughter that he likes more than milk.

Once we're finished, I turn the music down and dim the lights before sitting and stretching out on the couch. I pat the space between my legs, and Bella comes and snuggles close. I cover us with a soft blanket and wrap my arms around her, placing my hands strategically to feel Carlie kick.

"She loves Christmas, too," Bella says softly. "Raising them right in the womb."

I chuckle and nuzzle her cheek, placing a soft kiss there. "I love you."

Humming contentedly, she settles further against me. "I love you too, Edward. I'm so happy I'm here with you and Katie."

My heart squeezes painfully for the first time since she finally opened her eyes, and I have to hold her tighter just as a reminder that she _is_ here.

"I was so lost, love," I confess in a whisper. "I tried to keep it together, but everything reminded me of you. I couldn't look at the tree or the garland . . . our closet. You're here everywhere, but you weren't really. I didn't know what to do. I don't know how I could've —"

"Shhh." She turns slightly, placing her hand on my cheek and making our eyes meet. "I'm right here, baby. Right here. I can't even imagine how hard it was for you, but we're all here now. You don't have to think about the what ifs anymore. I'm safe and healthy, Carlie's safe and healthy, and you did a wonderful job making sure Katie was okay through everything."

"I love you." I have to say it again. It doesn't seem like enough to convey everything I'm feeling right now, but it'll have to do. "I'm so completely in love with you, Bella."

"I'm completely and totally in love with you too, Edward. Do you want to know what I wanted for Christmas?" I nod, so she continues. "This. I wanted to spend the evening with you, wrapped up together. Wake up tomorrow and unwrap presents with Katie. Take a family picture with everyone and eat a delicious meal."

"I think we're saving Ho Ho a lot of room on his sleigh," I joke which makes her grin, probably happy to see my mood has turned back around. I didn't mean to get serious, and I'm sure it won't be the last time it creeps up on me. But with Bella to support me, I can make it through anything.

"You're right about that," she says with a quiet laugh. "But there is one other thing I want from _you._"

She has a cunning glint in her eye which has me curious. I'm pretty sure she won't be naming anything I have hideously wrapped for her under the tree. "What's that, baby?"

Without a word, she reaches under the blanket, pulling something out and lifting it above our heads.

"Mistletoe?" I question, wondering how she snuck that in.

She nods. "Mistletoe. I have everything I could ever want, but I figure I can be a little greedy."

"And you want a kiss? That's all?" With a smile, I lean forward, placing a sweet kiss on her lips. "I don't think that makes you greedy."

The glint in her eyes remains as she shakes her head. "Uh uh. You can do much, much better than that. Kiss me like you mean it, husband."

Ah. I see what she means now. I have been careful with her over the last week, with good reason of course. But she's making it clear she can handle more, so who am I to argue?

"With pleasure, wife. With pleasure."

Placing both my hands on her cheeks, I turn us slight so we're more comfortable and then I give her exactly what she's asking for. Lips, tongue, and everything. I don't hold back, and she keeps up perfectly. She tastes like Christmas — sugar cookies and the cinnamon she puts in her eggnog — and I can't get enough. With the way she's responding, I don't think she can get enough of me either. It's clear it has been too long, but when we both start groaning loudly, I know it's time to stop. We can't go any further tonight, but that's okay. This is enough.

We continue sharing slow, soft kisses as the fire crackles and the music plays, only stopping when Bella falls asleep in my arms. Instead of moving her right away and going to bed, I sit back and watch the fire and the twinkling lights of the tree.

We went through way too much shit over the last two weeks before getting to this point, but this moment is perfect. I kiss the top of Bella's head, closing my eyes as I try to commit this to memory exactly as it is.

"Merry Christmas, Bella," I whisper. "I'm so glad you're here."

**oOo**

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